#so sorry for the abrupt ending

[lomlhotchner]

❛ faking it! ❜ … aaron hotchner

↠ the heart wants what it wants masterlist

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༘♡ ⋆｡˚ SUMMARY : the mission is on, act like a rich loving couple, dig some information, catch the unsub. seem easy enough right?

༘♡ ⋆｡˚ WARNINGS : high tensions 😫 mutual pining, cursing, they’re shy okay, the plot doesn’t really make sense (i tried), english isn’t my first language!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ HANA’S NOTES : here we goooo!!!!! thank you so much for yalls patience 😭😭 this is part two to for zipper but you don’t need to read the it to understand this! i am so sorry from the bottom of my heart if this doesnt make sense lmao i dont know what i was going for. hope yall enjoy 💗

“Remember the plan?”

You took a deep breath and nodded your head, “Yeah, go in there, bond with the rich, find the unsub, piss him off so that he’ll take the bait, and then lure him outside so that he can get his ass kicked.” you stated confidently.

Hotch raised his eyebrows at you, amused “When does the ass kicking happen?”

You shrugged your shoulders, a smirk playing on your lips, “Whenever I get the chance.”

He scoffed out a laugh, making you grin at the sound. You arrived at the elevator, sending the elevator operator a warm smile in greeting before stepping inside. He was an old man with grey hair, he had wrinkles and the most comforting smile on his face.

“Where are you two lovebirds headed?” he cheekily asked while looking at the both of you with a knowing look.

If only he knew.

Hotch smiled at Stan—the nametag says, “Dinner.”

Stan nodded his head and press the respected level before sending you a warm smile, "May I say you look stunning in that dress.”

You shyly laughed and lowered your head, but before you could thank him, Hotch’s deep voice cut you off, “Doesn’t she?” he spoke with the softest tone you have ever heard and when you look up at him, he was already looking down at you with the certain look in his eyes that anyone can decipher as fondness.

No, he’s just being in character. Don’t be delusional.

Hotch has been acting different with you since the undercover task began. Although the whole point of it was to make everything up and act, you can’t help but think that he was just showing a part of himself where no one has the privilege to know. In easier words, you think he wasn’t really acting.

So does that mean the almost kiss…. ?

Do you really want to go there?

You weren't sure.

You guys continue to stare at each other not noticing the operator’s grin. He has seen a handful of couples in this part of the job and he knows when he sees fools in love.

The elevator dinged, indicating you arrived at the respected floor. You guys broke from the little staring contest, your cheeks heating up. Sending Stan a smile before walking out of the elevator.

The venue was enchanting, to say the least. Bright elegant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Beautiful flower arrangements placed on the table. People in gorgeous dresses and suits and suddenly you felt underdressed compared to them. Because this isn’t actually your real lifestyle, but for them, this is just a normal Tuesday.

Hotch interrupted your thoughts by bend down so he was level with your ear, “I didn’t get the chance to say this earlier, but you look absolutely gorgeous.” he whispered before standing up to his full height.

You couldn’t even count how many times you were flustered tonight. Your body was all tingly with excitement as you looked up at him, “Thank you, honey. You don’t look too bad yourself.” you teased.

A smirk formed on his lips. You could see his Adams apple bob at how hard he swallowed and maybe it’s the lights, but you can vividly make out his rosy cheeks after your comment.

He subtly tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, giving it a soft kiss for the extra effect. “Did you turn on your coms?” he mumbled.

Your eyes widen a little. right, you’re undercover. You move to your ear and click the device resulting in it turning on with a beep.

The audio cracks for a moment before JJ’s voice appeared, “Y/N? Hotch? Can you guys hear us?”

“Yeah, we can hear you JJ.”

“Okay, good. Any signs of the unsub?” she asked.

“No, not yet.” you answered, giving the place a once over for any suspicious acts.

“Nope.” Emily sounded through the coms. Followed by the other’s negative response of the unsub’s whereabouts.

“Alright, everyone be cautious. We know the unsub is unstable, keep an eye out for any weird behaviors.” Hotch ordered as he led you to the ballroom.

He took two champagne glasses and handed you one of them. You sent him a small as gratitude. Your hand was shaking slightly when you bought the glass to your lips.

Hotch took notice of that and rub his hand at the small of your back, “Relax.” he smiled.

You shyly nodded your head as you both moved to one of the tables. Taking a seat that Hotch has gracefully pulled out for you.

"You okay?" Hotch asked, sitting beside you.

"Yeah, kinda excited."

"Excited to catch a murderer?" he raised his eyebrows.

"That, but also this." you gestured to the ballroom you guys are in, "Everything is just so fancy, and pretty! I can't even remember the last time I actually got ready and wear a dress." you chuckled, not realizing that your hand has gravitated to the tip of Hotch's fingers, softly playing with it.

Hotch felt like he was going to melt at how adorable you are, plus the feeling of your hands on his skin? He's a goner. He has always known that you were a touchy person, having to see you hug or link your arms with the rest of the squad except him was not entirely unnoticeable. So when he gets the chance to have this pleasure, he isn’t sure what to do.

As you continued to talk about … —okay, he isn’t entirely paying attention— he has a small smile played on his lips. He just can't tear his eyes away from you. His eye move to your cheeks, your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes. Have you always been this pretty?

"Hotch? Did you hear what I said?" you tap the inside of his palm, trying to get his attention back to whatever daydream he went.

Hotch could feel his cheeks at getting caught red handed, "Yeah, yeah, sorry just got distracted."

You almost laughed at the absurdity, "By what? Me? You play this part too good Hotch, cause I can almost believe you're in love with me." you eyes widen slightly at your word vomit, you instantly regretted what you said but Hotch surprised you by laughing along.

"Oh honey, you have no idea." he softly chuckled.

God, I hate how he can act so good.

Your eyes move to surveillance the room as a distraction and noticed something, "Okay, don't look right now but the table on our left have been staring at us for the past 5 minutes."

Hotch subtly nodded his head and glanced at the table. It was a group of men in suits staring at you guys.

You. Specifically.

Oh.

He clenched his jaw and protectively wrapped his arms around your waist. Your stomach fluttered at the sudden contact. "We should split up and dig more information. I'm going to those gentlemen, and you can scout out the ladies over there."

You cleared your throat, brushing off your bashfulness, "Yeah, that's- that's a good idea." you stood up and brush the wrinkles of your dress. "See you later, handsome." you boldly left a kiss on his cheek, softly patting his shoulder.

Hotch felt like he was in a daze as he stared at you walking away. His tongue poke his cheek, trying to fight back a smile from forming when you sneak a peek around your shoulder, send him a cheeky smile and a wink.

He composed himself before he trudged to the table, “Evening, gentleman.” he greeted, noticing how they all pretend that they weren’t staring at his date. Fake date. “How are you guys enjoying the event?”

Enjoy drooling at my date? he wanted to add.

On the other side of the room, you have to control yourself from getting overly sheepish at the compliments the girls are giving you guys.

Both of you guys.

You and Hotch. Together.

“How long have you guys been with each other?”

“You guys look so good together."

"The ring is beautiful."

"He's so fine, girl. You are so lucky,"

"Are you joking? He's lucky one. Look at her, she's gorgeous."

The compliments are making you blush, "Thank you, ladies." you smiled, glancing at Hotch absentmindedly.

They were right, he is fine.

You shook your head, remembering the real reason you are here. "So. do you guys know the host personally?"

The girl on your right, —Barbara you think, "Oh no, I just work for them. But this one," she nudged the girl beside her, "works as a personal assistant for the host's mom."

Your eyebrows rose at the new information, "Oh? The pay's probably good huh?"

She chuckled, "I don't want to say much but it is definitely better than working as an accountant. If you exclude the constant bickering between her and her son in law."

That peeked your interest, but before you can dig up more information, Barbara spoke, "Oh my god. Your husband is literally head over heels for you. He won't stop ogling you!"

All of you subconsciously turned your head at the direction she was looking at.

Your eyes meet Hotch's and low and behold, he was already looking at you. And at the sudden addition of eyes his own widened as he shy away from the attention.

The sight made you grin.

The girls giggled and moved their conversation to a different topic. But you can’t help yourself from taking a peak at Hotch again. You both made eye contact, sharing a flustered smile.

Okay. What the fuck’s that about.

Countless of thoughts running through your head. The interaction have caught Emily’s attention as you make eye contact with her. What was that? Her face wearing a shocked, questionable look, as she teasingly smirked.

You subtly shrugged your shoulders. I have no fucking clue.

If this is going on for the whole night, you dont know how much your heart can take.

reblog / tell me what you think for a smooch <3 check out my other works!

[rosewinelonging]

theres always been something about rose that kanaya couldnt quite put her finger on. it wasnt bad per se, it was just. odd. she couldnt figure out what it was, not even after all the hours shes spent watching her. they had complete access to the kids throughout their lives watching as they went from tiny humans to slightly bigger tiny humans and yet all time spent staring at the screen did nothing to solve this feeling.

even now with rose being face to face it hasnt gone away. if anything getting worse as time went on. like a puzzle with a single piece missing, you can still make out the image but its still wrong. kanaya couldnt lie and say it wasnt bothering her. it was something about her presence, the way she moved, even moreso the way she didnt. her ability to sit and just, be still was almost frightening. she was deathly quiet usually settling into some corner where she reads or watches others in the room. the feeling of her sharp, knowing gaze always leaves her stumbling.

its during one of these so-called “quiet times” (as dave has so loving named) that the missing piece is finally found.

she was sitting on the coach trying to focus on not stabbing herself with the sowing needle again. rose was sitting with a book a little ways away. supposadly reading but the feeling of being watched never stopped for a moment.

dave walks in through the door and comes straight towards kanaya. “yo. have you seen lalonde?”

she looks up. “oh! well..” her eyes move to look past him, at rose seated just out of view of the enterance. he follows her gaze and turns around, startling at the sight of her.

“fucking christ!” rose smirked. “can you stop doing that? lookin’ like a creepy fucking doll-”

the rest of his words are cut off as her head begins to pound. oh. oh. she understands it now, that nagging feeling of something about rose that she just wasnt seeing. a doll. of course, she looked like a doll. graceful, elegant perhaps, a pretty little thing to be dressed up and admired. if kanaya was still alive shes sure her blood pusher would be pounding in her chest. 

“ah!” she blinks back to reality when her fingers slipped and poked herself with the needle. the others stop their heated discussion to look at her. heat rushes to her face. “no need to worry, just uh poked myself with the needle! haha..”

she needed to think about this. with that she excused herself and hurried out the room.

-------------------------------------------

it had taken a week to gather her thoughts. the whole she skirted around rose, making excuses to escape the scrutiny of the girl. it was painfully suspicious and a confrontation was inevitable.

“are you avoiding me kanaya?” rose had backed her into a corner, quite literally. she was pressed into the wall, opposite of the door.

“well. i would never avoid you. i am simply..” the girl raised an eyebrow. “i am of the opinion that you would be a good doll.”

“doll?”

kanaya nods sharply. “yes. i have been preparing clothes that would be fitting. that would make me expentionally happy if you were to wear.”

and to her utter suprise (and delight) she agreed.

they were in kanayas room. rose was perched on the edge of the bed that was never used but she never bothered to take out. now shes glad she hadnt. beside her were the clothes she made, laid out. a simple black skirt and a white button up skirt, the collar was embroidered with flowers. on top were the undergarments which took much longer than they should have. dark green matching set of lingerie. rose was inspecting the fabric with a small smile. “its pretty.”

kanaya was positively vibrating at this point. the anticipation of seeing rose wear her clothes was nearly too much to bear.

rose looked up. “seeing as im acting as a ‘doll’ in this scenario, and you my master, one must assume to be given commands..?”

she rubbed her hands together, clearing her throat. “that would be correct. all you need to do is act like a doll. which is to say, dont do anything.” that seemed to be acceptable to her as she nodded.

with just a moments hesitation kanaya finally reached out, grabbing roses arm and gently leading her to stand in the middle of the room. she grabbed the sides her godtier robe and began to lift up, rose putting her arms up letting her slide it off easily. kanaya dropped it to the floor unceremoniusly, leaving her in a simple bra and orange leggings. her hand hovers over the waistband. once this was off she would be in undergarments which shes seen many times on the monitor [though only when in private] but it was much different in person. sensing her hesitation rose pulled them down herself, bending down to pull them off her legs then dropping it next to her robe.

kanaya sucked in a breath. almost done. she circled around rose, the girl had returned to her doll-like status keeping her eyes directly forward, not acknowledgin her at all. it made her stomach jump and she rushed behind her so she wouldnt see her flushed face. she unlatched the clasp of the plain black bra. it was honestly disappointing, she had expected something fancier, a little more delicate from rose. but that was okay because thats why she was here. from now on she’d make sure rose wore only the prettiest clothing, it was what she deserves. moving the straps off her shoulder to let it drop to the floor.

finally, the last item of clothing. a pair of solid lavender panties. she wondered if there was decoration, like a bow or design at the front but wouldnt dare turn her around to check. the thought of rose watching her, all sharp and calculated like she could see directly into her mind revealing all of her deepest desires. it was too much. so she laid a trembling hand between her shoulder blades and began to trail her fingers down her spine. rose stiffened under her fingertips so she leaned in and said, “relax.”

she did. the tension fell away as her muscles drooped. then kanaya was centimeters away from her underwear. with a steadying breath she hooked two fingers beneath the waistband and tugged it down. there was no resistence or climactic happenings as it fell to the floor. just like that rose was completely naked. placing one hand lightly on her shoulder she walked back around to the front, admiring the sight. rose was shorter than her by a good bit, barely coming up to her chest. but what she lacked in height she made up generously in weight. she was heavy, with large wide hips and strong arms. her chest, though under-developed, was not lacking in any means. and despite this she looked more delicate than a feather on the water.

kanaya brushed her knucles against her cheek. there was no shame or embarrassment in features, only a quiet satisfaction. what she would give to have stay like this, a true goddess of her own right. she wanted to lay her down and map out every part of her body, get familiar with the holy. but she had a job to do. rose, her doll, was waiting to be dressed and displayed. [though if she really though about it, dolls dont care how their owners play with them, no opinions or voice of their own…] she turned and marched to the bed to grab the underwear, a dark green lace that would constrast wonderfully against her skin.

moving back, she grabbed roses hands and placed them on her shoulders for balance. it would be easier to make her dress herself but that would be a cruel request of a doll. she held the underwear down, letting her move to slip into it. kanaya took care to pull it up, the fabric fitting snuggly against her hips and ass. next she grabbed the matching bra, this time holding each arm as she slipped the straps to her shoulders. instead of turning her around she reached behind rose, finding the clasp and clipping it together with nimble, practiced fingers. she pulled the wire lining down checking to make to sure it was comfortable and low enough to give a nice view of her boobs.

next were the clothes. kanaya picked up the blouse from the bed. she had gotten rose to send measurements long before she started making these so she only hoped it fit. if not she could always spare some time so adjustments could always be be made.

she helped her through the short sleeves, tugging it the fabric up to her shoulders and flattening out the collar. starting from the bottom she began buttoning. it was natural muscle memory from years of practice yet she still fumbled. face flushing as her hands shook too much from excitement and anxiety to get them through the holes. eventually she managed to reach the top putting the last button throw the hole. she tugged at the collar, pulling the edges and flattening them out so they sat even against her jugular.

kanaya ran her fingers down her shirt, pinching and pulling at any odd sections until satisfied. the skirt was next, a simple black, pleated and it came to her knees. there was no hassle with getting her to step into it, pulling it up so it waistline settled just over her bellybutton. she spent a few minutes focused on pulling her shirt down, straigtening it out and fixing the skirt.

when satisfied she glances up and rose met her eye. they stared at eachother, her face tinged a bit red, eyes are a hazier than usual. softer around the edges like shes lost her constant sharp observance. kanaya brushed a piece of hair from her face. she ran her fingers through her soft hair, brushing out any kinks and moving it until her face was framed perfectly. holding her hand she led the doll back to her bed, helping her to sit down. once again fussing with her appearance before pulling back.

[dsdnjfd]

simon eats it sloppy.

through the mask, slobbering on his hands and knees like the mutt he truly is; like his only salvation is the ichor that drips between your thighs. like your cunt is the only thing that could save his wretched, blackened soul. he wants to roll in the tang that'll stay on the back of his tongue for weeks into deployment, that'll stay soaked into the fabric of his balaclava because fok no he isn't washing it before he leaves (he'll nearly tears the thing to shreds when he can no longer smell you on it).

large, calloused palms scratch over the sensitive skin of your quads and inner thighs as he opens you up for him, watches your folds part like that of a carnation (love, devotion, distinction, fascination) as he pushes your knees up to your chest. drags his tongue all over you, the creases where your vulva and thighs meet and gets you shaking before he's even touched your clit. before he's even taken the mask off. brushes his thumb over the little bud reverently, fondly. he thinks the way your thighs tremble in response is the most precious fucking thing.

and when he finally breaks watching you drip onto the cushions below, he's feral. rabid. barely gets the damned mask up to free his mouth before he's on you again, slurping up your slick and sucking your clit into his mouth. the suction is heavenly after so much teasing, and if his tongue finds its way to your ass too, that's his business. your toes curl in the air where your feet dangle uselessly, panties you're sure that simon will pocket later still around one ankle.

simon's relentless when he's like this, a dog chasing after it's favorite toy. he won't let up, won't even palm over his cock until you're at least three climaxes deep from his mouth alone. totally pussydrunk and ready for more.

[walpu]

Hi, it’s me again!! >_<

When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj

Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3

See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.

But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.

Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.

Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.

And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?

Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33

I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot

I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1

bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta

It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.

And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????

Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.

The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.

He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.

And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"

Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally

He'll take what he can get okay.

But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.

It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.

He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.

You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!

Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.

Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.

Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.

You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.

You can't keep lying to him, can you?

Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?

You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.

It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.

All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.

I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.

You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.

He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.

"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".

You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.

What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.

At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.

Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?

As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.

This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.

He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.

He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.

He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.

Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.

He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.

And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"

You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.

When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.

He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".

He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.

Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.

[kibblz-n-bitz]

Keep Watching.

Short drabble i wrote for @kingofthe-egirls and @bokutosbiceps

Summary: You and Ace play a "game" while watching a show.

Warnings: Fingering, Ace is a Tease, he's also a lil mean🤭

"Keep your eyes on the screen, babe." Ace's voice rumbles against your back, where his warm chest is pressed against you.

You squirm in his warm embrace as his hands trail all over your body. He chuckles, breath fanning against your ear as you arch into his hands. You want to turn your head into his neck so badly, but you knew you had to obey him, or there'd be dire consequences. You two had just started an hour long episode of some stupid show. If you could sit through the entire thing without cumming or looking away from the screen, Ace would reward you. Sounds easy, right?

Wrong.

Not even past the intro, and already Ace is kissing at your neck and shoulder while one of his hands plays with your nipple. You knew he was hellbent on getting you to lose. He loved teasing you. It turned him on to see you whine and squirm as you fought your orgasm, only to writhe in pleasure as it finally took over you. But you really wanted to win this time. You weren't going to give in so easily, you told yourself.

So here you were, leaned against him in your bed, facing the TV. Ace continued fondling your breasts, but decided to up the ante. He kissed you below the ear. You gasped and tipped your head back against his shoulder, still watching the television. You felt wetness pool between your legs.

"A-Ace..." You whine, frustrated at his lack of mercy.

"Hmm? Something wrong?" The boy hummed against you, his other hand now traveling further downward. He paused to draw slow circles against your navel. That fucking tease. Ace sucks a bruise into your shoulder before speaking again. "Want me to stop?"

"No..."

"Then keep watching."

With that, he dips his hand lower. His other hand gropes at each breast accordingly, alternating between tugging at your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. A chuckle vibrates through his chest as he brushes against your wet pussy through your panties.

"Already?" He applies pressure to your clit and you gasp, your hands fisting the bedsheets. "We aren't even 10 minutes in, babe."

"Shut up," You huff, legs kicking out a bit under Ace's ministrations. "You aren't... -mnhh-... playing fair."

"Oh, really?" Ace hums against your ear. He nips at it. "I think I'm being pretty fair."

His fingers tug harshly at your nipple as his other hand down on your clit through the fabric. You let out a moan, head thrown back onto Ace's shoulder. He laughs at you again. "This 'isn't fair.'"

"Oh! P-please, Ace, you c-haa... You can't!" You plead as you squirm in his arms.

"Then keep those eyes forward, baby." He nudges your head from where it's on his shoulder. "You don't want me stopping, do you?"

Cruel bastard.

Ace lets you watch a little further on into the episode before going further. Your eye twitches when you feel his hand that rubbing against you through fabric now push past the waistband of your panties. His fingers trail through your soaked lips and you whimper, clamping your legs shut around his hand.

"Ah ah ah," Ace chides you as his other hand reaches down to spread your legs again. He cooes at you, "Can't have that now, Darlin'"

His voice darkens as one hand prys you open, while the other dips into your folds. "You're supposed to take what I fucking give you."

Your pussy flutters, your breath quickens and you whine at his dominating words. Fuck, how many minutes were left? You blinked at the TV, mind cloudy. 28 minutes in, 32 to go. Your fists balled against the sheets, you clench your jaw momentarily. You could do this.

Ace had other plans. He knew you wanted to win, more than anything. He wasn't going to let you, but it was adorable to see you try. He had an idea.

His fingers stroked your pussy, never dipping in, occasionally circling your clit on the upstroke. When you'd try to push your hips into his fingers, trying to get him inside, he'd pull his hand away.

"Stay still." Ace rumbles into your ear. It's a warning, one you must obey. small whimpers and gasps escape you as your boyfriend continues teasing your pussy.

When he finally does dip into your pussy, you breathe a sigh of relief. His teasing was starting to drive you insane. You weren't sure if you would've lasted much longer if he'd kept it up. So the feeling of him sliding his middle finger into your pussy is much appreciated. He curls his finger and you moan, legs twitching. He his finger in and out of you for a while, teasing, he knows you want more. You check the time.

35 minutes. 25 to go.

Ace chuckles at your resolve, your determination to see this through. He adds another finger, this time moving at a bit of a quicker pace. You bite your lip. Shit. Ace laughs again, this time at the way you twitch when he curls his fingers just right. You whimper and grip at his forearm.

"A-Ace-"

His fingers speed up, and you're moaning and writhing in his arms, not sure whether to curl away from the pleasure or bask in it. His fingers reach deep. Wet sounds can be heard from where he's fingerfucking you, and you flush to your ears in embarrassment.

"Hear how wet ya are, gal?" Ace's fingers keep up their rough assault against your g spot. Your thighs tremble as you try to stave off your impending orgasm. "Such a good girl. You gonna be good f'me?"

Your hips buck as his fingers curl repeatdly against your bundle of nerves, nails digging into Ace's arm from where you hold him. Biting your lip, you nod. You want to be good. You want to make it through the episode. Your eye peeks open (you hadn't realized they shut) to check the time once more.

20 minutes left.

"Please, Ace..." You whine. Your other hand comes up to bury itself in the boy's hair from where he's got his chin hooked over your shoulder. Gently scratching his scalp, you try all the stops to try and get him to show some mercy.

"Please what, Y/N?"

"P-please... slow d-ah! Down..."

"Poor baby, what's wrong?" Ace cooes, lack of sympathy evident in his tone. "Ya gonna cum?"

"Ffgh- No... I j-just-"

"Then take it."

His other hand, that was holding your leg open, now reaches down to circle your clit. Electric pleasure shoots through your body. You're warm from the inside out, God you're not gonna make it.

"Ace!" You cry, hand fisted into his hair. Your hips twitch as your orgasm approaches. Trying to stop it now was futile. The boy laughs as you writhe in his arms.

"Shhh, I know baby, I know." He kisses your cheek. "Just let go, baby. Let go."

You feel the pleasure wash over you. The pounding of blood in your ears washes away any other noise, the TV or the challenge you were given far away from your mind. You roll your hips against Ace's hand, riding out your orgasm. Basking in all it's glory before the punishment you knew would come.

When you finally come down, Ace is lazily trailing his fingers through your pussy. You turn your head to face him and he looks back at you, shit-eating grin etched onto his face.

"You lost, Y/N."

[monstrsball]

The night before Iwaizumi leaves for California, his mother gives him a gift. It's wrapped delicately in yellow wrapping paper.

Iwaizumi has a feeling he knows what it is.

"I know it's last minute," She says, sitting next to him on his bed in his childhood bedroom. "Your bags are all packed, I don't expect you to make room to take it with you or anything, of course." She watches him, hands folded in her lap. "Ah, and you'll probably think it's embarrassing any-"

"Mama," Iwaizumi interrupts, fighting back a little smile at her fretting. "Let me at least open it before you try minimizing it."

"Right, right." She laughs, waving her hand. "Of course. Go on then. Open it."

Iwaizumi doesn't take his time tearing it open.

It's a book. A scrapbook, Iwaizumi guesses. It has his name handwritten in both kanji and hiragana on the front. It's a little smaller than the other scrapbooks his mom has on her shelf. The binding is a dark forest green.

The only sound in the room is the flipping of pages. Iwaizumi takes his time to study each page, his chest feeling a little tighter the more he flips through the book.

Iwaizumi knows his mothers have always taken lots of pictures, ranging from polaroids to digital. His aunties too but he still finds himself surprised by the amount Sachiko has collected in the book. Including pictures she must have received from other people because neither of his moms were present at said event.

The pages are simple. Each one has about two to five (depending on the sizes of them) pictures on it. They're decorated with stickers and little notes written in his mom's graceful handwriting neatly squeezed where they can fit and still be legible.

Notes like "you gave your poor mother a fright the first time you came into the house with one of these" under a photo of Iwaizumi proudly showing off a jar with a beetle in it and "i'm surprised you convinced tooru to go, lol" by a photo from a fishing trip Iwaizumi took with the other third years.

"This is one of my favorite pictures," His mom says, watching as Iwaizumi flips pages over his shoulder. She points to a picture of the two of them when they first moved into the house. He was only three. They're sitting on the front steps together, neither of them are looking at the camera. He has his arms wrapped around hers and is looking up at her as she laughs.

And he breaks.

"Oh, Hajime." She says softly, pulling him into a tight hug. He tucks his face into the crook of her neck and she strokes his hair as he cries. He feels like he's five again, crying because he accidentally squashed a bug when he was trying to catch it. Ten, crying because he was sick with the flu and thought he was on the brink of death. Thirteen, crying because he and Oikawa had a fight and he thought he would never talk to him again.

Eighteen, crying because he's leaving the country tomorrow and it suddenly hit him that he doesn't know what he's going to do without his mom.

He doesn't say that though.

He doesn't tell her that he's scared, scared that he's going to crash and burn in California, scared that his friendship with Oikawa won't survive the distance, scared that everything is going to go wrong because he left.

Or that he's really going to miss her.

(Maybe he should have told her that.)

-

That night before Iwaizumi spends his last night in his childhood room, he wraps the scrapbook up in the hoodie that Oikawa gave him and tucks them both into one of his bags.

He thinks about where he's going to put it in his dorm room when he gets to California.

[wrathofrats]

Mushy May Day 12- first time/ wound tending/first aid - zephrit.

Thanks to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @gothdaddyissues for the divider!

Ifrit is stupid and Zeph just wants to bandage him up (and fuck him)

2.3k Featuring: homoerotic wound cleaning, idiots in love, zephs first time, first kiss too but-, I was only a little weird about blood, only a little I was good this time. But be warned there’s a couple sentences where I’m weird about blood. Also possessiveness. Also being weird about virginity. Did I mention that I promise this is fluff.

“Why didn’t you think to wear gloves!?” Zeph tried not to shout, gingerly looking for a place to grab Ifrits arm so they could drag him upstairs, “why didn’t you let go when it hurt!?”

Ifrit cradled his free hand into his chest, attempting to stop the bleeding with shirt. Both hands were covered in small pin pricks that oozed drops of blood down his skin as he attempted to keep it from dripping onto the floor.

“I didn’t know roses had thorns until I had already grabbed them” ifrit attempted to defend himself. The roses laid discarded with blood around their stems on the table for another ghoul to find later. “I’m fine I promise, I can go clean up myself”

It was a sweet gesture that Zephyr wishes they could have appreciated more if it wasn’t for the fact that ifrit had attempted to hand them the flowers while blood freshly streamed down his forearms.

“Absolutely not. I didn’t trust you to know how to tend to your injuries if you don’t even know that roses have thorns”

“Zeph I’m fine,” ifrit whined, trying to hide that he was wincing every time he had to move his hands. He was shoved through the door of zephyrs bathroom with a small growl telling him to sit on the side of the bathtub. Zephyr rummaged through the cabinet under their sink, pulling out gauze and tweezers.

Ifrit sat palms up on the lip of porcelain. There was a small feeling of embarrassment that bubbled in his chest watching zephyr almost angrily gather their supplies. He truly was fine, ifrit wasn’t known for having a low pain tolerance, and knew enough to keep the wounds from getting some kind of nasty infection, but it was the scared look in zephs eyes that allowed himself to be dragged behind the smaller ghoul and into their bathroom in order to be taken care of.

A warm wet washcloth brushed over ifrits hands, earning a hiss from him at the stinging sensation. He instinctively pulled his hands away as zephyr reached to pull them back into his lap so they could wipe the drying blood away.

“Shit- Zeph don’t you have numbing cream or something?” Ifrit winced, tugging once again against zephyrs grip on his wrists.

“I do, but then what will you have learned?”

“That you love and care for my well being and the fact that I’m in pain?”

Zeph snorted in response. They tried to hide the small smile on their face as they lay the scarlet stained cloth on the tub next to ifrit, reaching for the tweezers. There were still small bits of dirt and plant matter in his hands, enough that couldn’t simply be washed out with running water. Black asymmetrical specks littered his palms while ifrit took a deep breath to try and prepare for zephyr digging them out of his skin.

There was a tenderness in the way zephyr worked. Knelt in front of ifrit with his large hands practically taking up both of their own, to cradle them and delicately pluck the splinters from his skin. Ifrit was easily twice their size. Broad and tall, cowered on the side of a porcelain tub while zephyr, who could easily be engulfed by his frame, had him making himself appear smaller for them to work on.

Ifrit couldn’t help but breathe heavily and grunt whenever zephyr dug out the deeper pieces. His skin was tender and raw from the cleaning, and every poke of the metal tweezers felt like another stab into his hand.

“You have to be almost done right?” Ifrit asked, jumping again from another poke.

“If you’d stay still this would go a lot faster ifs”

A part of zephyr didn’t want to admit to themself that they were absolutely drawing it out a bit. It’s not often they got the fire ghoul in such a vulnerable position. They tried to make their heart still everytime they had to look up at him. His sweet smiling face staring back down even if he was in pain. Only the word beautiful came to their mind whenever ifrit would look at Zeph in reassurance that he actually was ok.

It didn’t help that ifrit was making noises that had zephyr blushing like an idiot.

Small whines and grunts that could easily be taken for moans fell from his lips as zephyr spread the neosporin over the cleaned wounds. He’s sweet, stupid, but sweet and hearing him make such pretty noises has zephyr about to rip through their own skin to get on top of him. The way he looked down at Zeph through hooded eyes, softly whimpering, was truly more than they could bear.

The lewd sounds only got louder as Zeph wrapped his hands in gauze. It almost sounded on purpose, the painful edge lessening with every moan.

Finally zephyr stood up to look him in the eye. Their arms crossed, a frustrated red tint to their cheeks while ifrit gave them a shit eating grin. It was hard not to get lost in his eyes, no matter how distressed they were with the current situation. A warm orange red hue, like he contained the sun in his eyes himself. They were kind in nature, comforting and safe. Streaks of magma danced in his irises.

“You’re cute when you blush wisp.” Ifrit muttered, giving a quick glance down to their lips, before returning their eye contact.

This could feel the heat radiate off of him, hear how his breathing hadn’t slowed down even though Zeph had long since bandaged him up.

“Shut up”

Zephyr leaned into ifrit, using their arms to steady themself on the tub, before encapsulating his lips with theirs. They could feel ifrit smile into it, as if this was somehow his masterful plan all along. The motions were almost too easy as if they had been ingrained in both of them all along, fated to end up like this.

Their movements feel slow and sweet like molasses. Only opening their mouths to quickly take a gasp of air before diving back in for more. Ifrit grabbed at zephyrs shirt first, using the fabric as leverage to stand up and pull them closer. An air of passion surrounds them, like they’d die if they ever had to stop touching each other.

Ifrit carded a bandaged hand through zephyrs hair, tugging lightly at the white and gray strands. He bit along their lip as he backed them up into the sink, using the newfound control to lick into their mouth as they gasped with the sharp pin prick of pain in their scalp. Unconsciously ifrit moved his leg in between zephyrs, pressing onto their rapidly hardening cock through their jeans.

“Wait- Zeph, '' ifrit panted, pulling away to take a chance to catch his own breath, “is this what you want? Are you sure?

“I’m sure, please ifrit” zephyr pleaded. They already looked a mess, hair sticking up in all directions with kiss swollen lips.

“This is your first right? I just don’t want to-“

“If you don’t fuck me right now I will put the thorns back in your hands”

The message was received loud and clear as ifrit took his turn to drag zephyr wherever he wanted them to go. He pushed them onto their bed, taking a second to take in the image of the air ghoul beneath him.

The usually grumpy and semi aloof nature completely drained in favor of a look of desperation and want. The usual upkeep now turned disheveled in ifrits wake. If ifrit thought that Zeph wouldn’t tear him to shreds he would’ve taken a picture so that he could savor it for a lifetime.

“Is there something wrong?” Zephyr asked, brow furrowed in confusion as to why ifrit hadn’t climbed onto them already.

“I just think you’re beautiful Zeph”

Ifrit straddled zephyrs waist, leaning down to kiss them once again, just to savor the taste of their lips. A mix of mint and his own spice from moments ago. Large hands tugged at zephyrs clothing. It’s meant as a suggestion, only if zephyr wanted to actually expose themself for him.

Ifrit wants to be a gentleman so badly, to go slow and take care of zephyr like they did for him. Soft touches and careful looks to ensure that they still look needy and not like they had changed their mind at any point.

“Wait ifrit your hands-“ Zeph struggled as ifrit reached to palm at the front of their jeans. “Shit- you really shouldn’t-“

“Let me do this for you darling, I can handle a little pain”

Zephyr could see the blood seeping through the bandages as ifrit looked for permission to undress them. It was dizzying, a weird arousing fear at watching him remove their clothing with blood soaked palms. If all the blood from their brain wasn’t currently aching in their cock they probably would’ve made him stop so they could patch him back up again, but with the hungry look in ifrits eyes as he admired zephyrs naked body, they couldn’t bring themself to care.

“Am I the first that gets to see you like this wisp?” Ifrit rubbed his hands over zephyrs exposed thighs, pushing them up and open for himself to admire. “Am I the first that you’ve allowed to touch you properly?”

“Let me see you ifrit come on, don’t tease me” zephyr whined. They threw their hands over their face in an attempt to hide their blush.

“Relax, I’ll take care of you Angel”

Zephyr opened their eyes to watch ifrit undress in front of them. Slow with a bit of a cocky smirk like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Zeph. Miles of toned muscle beneath his shirt, just leaving on a chain necklace he rarely takes off. Zephyr could drool at the sight of it if they had any less dignity at the moment.

They gasped when ifrit finally unbuckled and shimmed out of his pants. He was big, a lot larger than anything Zeph had ever put inside themself. Their own cock twitched on their stomach the thought of ifrit being inside them.

“You seriously just had that with you?”

Ifrit had reached into the pocket of their discarded jeans to pull out a small bottle of lube, beaming at zephyr’s obvious distress at knowing this information.

“You never know when you’ll need it” he laughed

He dispensed a small dime size amount onto the tips of his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up while he settled between zephyrs legs once again. Their thighs moved out of the way instinctively, giving room for ifrit to smear some of the lube around their rim.

“Gonna go slow, let me know if anything feels bad”

Zephyr almost whimpered in pure anticipation when ifrit finally pushed two fingers into their hole, giving them a second in case they needed to adjust, before slowly pumping them in and out in an attempt to work them open. Ifrit littered kisses alone zephs pale skin, worshiping any place on their body that he could reach. He had never seen zephyr so vulnerable. Completely spread out, almost begging for what they want, all just for him and no one else.

“You can give me more ifs, stretch me out wildfire”

“ Don’t want to hurt you” ifrit pulled his fingers out to add a third, slowly letting zephyrs hole stretch around them. It was a bit awkward as ifrit attempted to work around the bandages on his hands, but watching Zeph practically writhe around his fingers was reward enough for the bit of pain.

“You’re not going to hurt me, but I will hurt you if you don’t fuck me already” zephyr grumbled, thrusting their hips down to try and fuck themself on his hand.

“Just can’t wait for me to claim you huh? Mold you around my cock before anyone else can?” He practically growled, shoving zephyrs thighs up higher in order to line his cock up.

“Make me yours ifrit”

It took all of ifrits self control to not immediately shove his cock in zephyr at their words. He tried to go slow, watching as zephyrs mouth fell open and their eyes screwed shut at just the tip. They were fucking tight, warm and wet and perfect.

A high pitched whine escaped Zephyr's throat once ifrit bottomed out. They had never felt so full, there was a painful pleasure in the stretch as Zeph tried to breath and adjust to his size. Ifrit trailed more small kisses along their torso, waiting for a sign that they were alright.

“Move” Zeph whimpered. Ifrit rocked into them slowly, taking his time to really watch his air ghoul come undone beneath him. Zephyrs hands flew to claw at Ifrits back as he started moving in earnest, digging their nails in while their vision went blurry at the edges.

“Shit- ifrit fuck touch me please” their voice shook as they begged. Ifrit slipped his hand between their bodies to grab at zephyrs cock, stroking it in time with his own thrusts. They were wet, tip sticky with the pre that had dribbed down their shaft and onto their stomach. A pretty pool of arousal on their skin.

“Doing so well for me wisp, so fucking beautiful underneath me”

“Close” Zephyr gasped, attempting to rock their hips up into ifrits hand. A warm desperate feeling radiated through their stomach, tears forming on the tips of their eyelashes.

“Cum for me darling”

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou has been gone on a mission for entirely too long now. the seasons are starting to change, and his side of the bed is starting to lose his embedded scent. but, thankfully, he should be home within the next few days, and its enough to drive you up the wall knowing how close he'll be soon.

so, to show your excitement, you set things up in your shared room. you pull on his shirt with the old tattered skull on the front, and find the specially created dildo that was modeled after him (what a fucking process that was, that turned out to be so worth it for moments like these). you watch a few videos he's sent you while he's been away, with his arms seemingly bigger and his cock seemingly harder every moment he's away from you.

and you get started. working yourself open, moaning unabashedly in the quiet house, head thrown back into his pillow as you chase your high. so when you get close, you finally set up your phone on his night stand. your body propped up on its side, legs squeezed together as you run the tip of the fake cock between your folds. you only hope to the high heavens that Bakugou answers, or else you think you might burst at the seams.

when he does answer, his voice gets so choked up in his throat. you have no care in the world if he's around people, if anyone could possibly see - all you cared about were his eyes being on you. and honestly, bakugou doesn't think he could look away if he tried. keeps his eyes glued to the screen as you see him get up to slam his hotel door shut, stumbling over to the bed, fumbling with his belt until only the tip peeks out on your screen.

"You don't know what you fuckin' do to me, sweetheart," Bakugou huffs out, his voice strained, face comically close to his phone. he turns his brightness up, the volume, doesn't care if his next door neighbor can hear your sweet little moans of his name.

"Miss you so much," you murmur, eyes squeezing shut when you slide the entirety of the already soaked dildo back inside of you. Bakugou groans low under his breath, lip twitching when he catches a glimpse of the flared base pressing against your lips.

"Is that the one made after me?" he asks in a whisper, swallowing thickly. you're the only person who could get him from zero to a thousand, from a bad day to the best one he thinks he's ever had in his entire life. you nod quickly, biting at your lip, slightly raising your leg to get deeper, to rub at your clit the same time you start fucking yourself with the dildo.

Bakugou thinks he might burst at the seams at the sight of you. he promises to himself, come morning time, he'll get home quicker if its the last thing he does.

[stevethehairington]

i love you prompts: 98 w/ romantic steddie? 😌

lou!! thank you for sending this in!! ooh this is a good one!!

98. "Take a deep breath"

It’s late when the credits finally start to roll onscreen.

Steve guesses it’s sometime close to midnight, or maybe a little after, but he’d taken his watch off earlier before he’d gotten elbow deep in dirty dish water, cleaning up after the mess they somehow managed to make whipping up a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. It sits on the kitchen counter, all the way across the room, and the nearest clock in the Munson trailer hangs beside the phone, too far away for Steve to see from his spot on the couch.

He can’t exactly twist in his place to try and catch a better glimpse of it, or get up to fetch his watch either. Not while Eddie leans up against his side, arms crossed over his chest and neck bent awkwardly so his head can rest against Steve’s shoulder, fast asleep.

When they first put the movie on, the two of them had started off on opposite ends of the already pretty small couch, but as it progressed, they’d gradually shifted closer and closer — in the name of sharing popcorn easier, to whisper their movie commentary directly into each other’s ears rather than speak over the film, and, eventually, so it seems, so that Eddie could use Steve as a pillow. 

Not that Steve minded or anything. He liked it, in fact — likes it. Likes having Eddie so close, likes feeling the warmth of his body pressing up against his own, likes the fact that Eddie is comfortable enough with him to let his guard down like this.

Eddie hasn’t been sleeping all that well as of late, so when his head tipped onto Steve’s shoulder a little over half an hour ago, Steve just slouched a little lower to ease the angle of his neck and reached for the remote to turn down the volume. It had been a little hard for him to hear it after that, but he hadn’t really paid it much attention after that point anyways.

Now, though, the movie is over, and it’s late enough that Steve’s verging on overstaying his welcome. He knows he should probably wake Eddie so he can let him know that he’s going and say his goodbyes and head out.

But Eddie just looks way too peaceful. Steve doesn’t want to wake him.

Instead, he decides that he can just leave a note. In case Eddie does wake up to find him gone. He’ll know nothing bad happened to Steve, just that he went home for the night and that they’ll see each other tomorrow — because chances are they will. They hardly went a day without spinning into each other’s orbits now.

Except, Steve doesn’t want to just leave Eddie on the couch either. He knows from personal experience that the Munson’s sofa is not exactly the most comfortable thing ever. Every time he falls asleep on it, he wakes up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back. He doesn’t want that for Eddie.

His bedroom isn’t far, just down the hall, and Steve will feel a lot better if he gets Eddie to his bed before he leaves. So, he does his best to maneuver out from beneath Eddie, cradling his head as he removes it from his shoulder and lowers it to the cushion instead.

Steve takes a second to roll out his shoulders, then he slips one arm under Eddie’s back and the other behind his knees, which are curled to his side. As carefully as he can, he lifts Eddie from the couch.

Eddie stirs, but he doesn’t wake, thank god. He just smacks his mouth a little and buries his nose into the collar of Steve’s sweater, and Steve lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Eddie’s lighter than he looks, but still pretty heavy, and Steve doesn’t want to drop him, so he takes it slow as he follows the path towards Eddie’s door at the end of the hall. It’s, thankfully, already open, so all he has to do is kick out a foot to push it wide enough to fit through.

The blinds in Eddie’s room are still fucked up — broken enough that the slats droop down in a way that gives the morning sun the perfect opening to shine right in and wake him up before it’s time. Eddie complains about it constantly, but he hasn’t made any sort of attempt to fix them yet, and right now, Steveis grateful for that. The glow of the moon is bright enough to seep in through the gap, providing just enough gentle light that Steve can see where he’s going.

He makes it to the side of Eddie’s bed without issue, and delicately deposits Eddie onto his mattress. Again, Eddie shifts, rolling slightly onto his side, but he still doesn’t rouse.

The blankets are shoved to the end of Eddie’s bed, and Steve stifles a snort at that as he reaches for them and starts to pull them up and over Eddie’s body. He knows Eddie runs cold, so he takes a moment to tuck the corners in and add an extra blanket to the top so that he’s nice and cozy.

Then, unable to help himself, Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs to the side and leans down to leave a soft ghost of a kiss to his forehead.

He’s just starting to straighten up and pull his hand back when quick fingers dart out to curl around his wrist, trapping him there.

Steve freezes, eyes snapping back open to find Eddie, awake, blinking hazily back up at him.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, groggy, still somewhere halfway in between awake and asleep.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me,” Steve whispers. “You fell asleep, I just brought you to your room so you’d be comfortable,” he tells him.

Eddie smiles then, this sleepy, goopy sort of thing that makes something warm settle in Steve’s chest, and he tugs on Steve’s wrist. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and Steve thinks maybe he has something he wants to tell him.

So he leans in closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Eddie tips his chin up, and Steve thinks he’s going for his ear, so he can whisper his sleepsoft secret. Only, his mouth doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s ear. Instead, it lands against his own in a—

In a kiss.

It’s chaste, tender, just the sweet press of lips against lips. It catches Steve off guard at first, but the surprise settles, and Steve is about to let himself melt into it.

Then the moment shatters.

Eddie jerks back, bolting upright as he scrambles far enough back in his bed that he hits the headboard. His eyes are wide open now, fully alert and not a single trace of sleepiness anywhere on his face as he stares at Steve. His hand, the one he’d had around Steve’s wrist just seconds ago, hovers over his own mouth, like he can’t quite believe what it has just done.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m so— I didn’t mean to— fuck, you have to— please don’t—”

“Woah, hey, it’s… it’s alright, Eddie,” Steve says, holding his hands out in what he hopes is a placating gesture. He doesn’t come closer, doesn’t want to frighten Eddie further, but he wants Eddie to know that there’s no reason for him to be so scared. He’s not… he’s not mad. Or upset. Or anything that Eddie probably thinks he is right now. Not even close.

Eddie’s words start to fail him as his breathing begins to hitch, and Steve can see the rapidfire rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are on Steve, but he’s not looking at him. He’s looking through him, like he’s somewhere else right now. Like he’s spiraling into every single bad place his mind can take him right now.

Steve recognizes it for what it is — a panic attack.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, forgetting politeness as he moves to the edge of Eddie’s bed and kneels against the mattress. He reaches out to rest his hand on Eddie’s shoulder — to give him a point of contact, something to focus on. Something to ground him. It’s what usually helps Steve whenever he’s having a panic attack, finding an anchor, to bring him back down.

Eddie’s hand flies out to grasp at Steve’s wrist, and Steve lets him pull it from his shoulder so that he can curl his fingers around Steve’s palm instead. His grip is tight, nails biting into Steve’s skin, but Steve doesn’t care.

“You’re safe,” Steve reassures. “You’re safe and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie nods, but Steve isn’t so sure his words have reached him. Not when he still looks so panicked, and his breathing is still coming out too fast.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs.

Eddie’s eyes settle onto Steve’s face, still hazy but doing better at focusing. Steve smiles at him, nods encouragingly. “Come on, do it with me, deep breath in.”

Steve makes a show of inhaling again, holding up his fingers to count to three before he starts to let it all back out in an exhale. He goes through it twice before Eddie catches on and starts to mirror him.

They follow the pattern until finally Eddie’s breathing returns to normal and the panic seems to subside.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s shoulders slump and his head drops forward, his hair hanging like a curtain around his face. Steve hasn’t let go of Eddie’s hand yet, and he doesn’t plan to.

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, but he doesn’t look up. “Depends,” he starts. “Are you going to… to fucking… hit me or shout at me or something?”

Steve’s face screws up, mouth tugging down into a hard frown. “What?” He asks. “Why would I do that? Because you had a panic attack?”

Eddie snorts. “No,” he replies, like he can’t believe that’s what Steve thinks this is about. He stays quiet for a second, two, three. Like he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “Because I— because I kissed you,” he finally breathes.

“Oh,” Steve says softly. He watches Eddie for a moment, doesn’t like that he can’t see his face. He wants to see his face. So, with careful fingers, he reaches out to brush Eddie’s hair back, to tuck it behind his ear.

Eddie’s breath catches as he does, and his gaze flickers up to Steve’s, briefly, before fixing firmly on his lap again.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, “I’m not mad that you kissed me.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in.

When they do, Eddie’s head snaps up. His eyes land on Steve’s, wide and surprised and searching. “You’re not?”

Steve shakes his head. Lets a little smile grace his lips. “Nope,” he confirms. “Not one single bit.”

And, well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? He shuffles a little closer on his knees, presses further into Eddie’s space. “In fact…” he trails off. Does a little searching of his own. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again,” Steve finishes after he’s sure that Eddie isn’t going to push him away.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift this time, the pull together. Steve wants to smooth out the little wrinkle that forms between them. 

“Are you… you’re serious?” Eddie asks.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Steve replies.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches, then a smile breaks out across his face. “Holy shit, you’re serious,” he says, followed by a breathless little laugh.

Steve can’t help but laugh too, and he nods and starts to tug at Eddie’s hand to pull him in this time. “Yeah,” he says. “Now that that’s been established, you think I could get another one?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s won the lottery. “Jesus christ, yes, yes please,” he says, and the hand not caught in Steve’s comes up to bunch into the front of his sweater as he meets him halfway.

It’s a little offcentered, a little overeager on both of their parts, but it’s perfect.

When they break apart, Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s. “Were you leaving?” He asks.

“I was,” Steve answers. “I don’t want to now,” he admits.

Eddie chuckles and lets go of Steve only just long enough to peel back the covers Steve had so lovingly tucked around him not too long ago.

“So stay,” Eddie says.

With his welcome so graciously extended like that, who is Steve to say no?

So he stays.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

[missjoolee]

Chapel of Love

1.1k words

The barest hint of hot, dry air ruffled against the baby hairs on the back of her neck doing little relief. Long gone were the multi-layered stage outfits, having learned she needed something more breathable underneath the stagnant tent two days ago at the start of the music festival. Instead, she wore a poofy crop top with shorts, and she could feel Luke’s eyes roaming the revealed skin of her shoulders, midriff, and legs with each song they sang together. He'd been winding her up with each set.

Her hands grip the top of the mic stand as she leans into where the mic sits, holding herself in place where normally she would be dragging it over to share with Luke in this moment. But they are halfway through the seventh and final set and his eyes weren’t the only thing she could feel looming nearby. Just outside the Loud & Local tent sat the “Chapel of Love”. And the next lyrics were too close to vows that she might do something stupid if she got too close to him. Why had they written them this way, again?

They hadn’t seen the simple archway that signified the “chapel” when they had arrived to set up, the van being parked on the other side of the tent that held the stage that they would share with four other bands over the three day festival. And when they finally had a chance to roam the festival grounds, Reggie pulling them to the food truck selling fancy milkshakes, they saw it but didn’t know what it was. Even on the information board sporting a map, it was just a tiny innocuous dot.

It had been later on a water run that Alex and she saw a small gathering of people under it, two of them sealing their love with a kiss. Apparently, you could get married at this festival.

"Huh," Alex had said, taking a drink from his bottle and then resting his arm on her shoulder. "That's a decision." "I don't know. I think it's kind of sweet," she'd responded. A snort rang out from above her head. "Of course you would say that." She'd sent an accusatory glare up at him, dropping her shoulder so his arm would fall way. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She had known exactly what he meant though. Her eyes close against the crowd in front of her and drift open to her left, knowing exactly where Luke would be.

She can feel electricity thrum through her body as she begins the call and response moment.

"I've got a spark in me."

She can see the confusion on his face, but he smiles at her as the words slide out of him with ease.

"I've got a spark in me."

She closes her eyes against the assault of love intertwining with the electricity already coursing though her. In her mind, the simple archway looms above them. This is why she was fighting her entire being from going to him. It was too soon. Too impulsive.

"And you're a part of me."

She can't escape the feelings that have been building with each performance they've done this weekend. The euphoria of performing their music with the her best friends, and the man she loves, not caring that she shut her eyes in an attempt to block it out.

"And you're a part of me."

Luke's voice right next to her sends a shiver across her shoulders, her eyes jumping open to see he'd closed the distance to share a mic with her. Not letting her run from him, not realizing she wasn't running. She was trying to reign in some very impulsive thoughts. She can see the concern in his eyes behind the determination and can't help the smile that graces her face, softer than what is normally part of her stage persona.

"Now till eternity."

His response is accompanied by the smile he normally saves for her when they are in the studio. One that Alex and Reggie unfortunately have to put up with because it side tracks things often enough. "Now till eternity."

The mental reigns she's been wrestling are completely forgotten about. She's a goner. Their voices twine together like they have thousands of times before.

"Been so long and now I'm finally free."

The rest of the set goes off without a hitch. The adrenaline and dopamine high intoxicating. She feels Reggie's arm go around her shoulders as Luke's goes around her waist and she looks at all her band-mates with pride. This weekend was amazing and did a lot to promote them, even if they were competing for attention with signed bands that have been around a whole lot longer on two other stages. They take a group bow to the crowd before they disperse like the non-existent wind.

Luke's arm tightens and he leans down to her ear to be heard. "Everything okay?" His voice is raspy and a bit lower than normal from doing seven performances in three days.

Perfect. The word rings in her head, bolstering her onto her toes next to his ear so he can hear her response.

"Marry me." Her own voice rough, lower and more sultry than she expected.

He looks surprised as he processes her words, but not like they made him uncomfortable if that same smile he saves for her lighting up his face means anything.

"Yeah. Okay."

She grabs hold of the hand on her waist, interlacing their fingers as she heads for the exit of the tent with determination. He drags behind her a bit.

"You mean right now??"

The first flicker of doubt hits her. "Yes?"

He drops her hand and scrambles to get the guitar strap over his head. "Oh hell yeah."

Her smile is so big she can feel the ache in her cheeks but she doesn't care. He wants this as bad as she does.

A voice interrupts them. "Uh Julie? Luke? Where are you going? We have to pack up our stuff so Midnight Mayhem can go on."

Reggie looks confused, his thumb pointing over his shoulder off the back of the stage. Alex's looks suspicious. Julie can feel heat soar to her cheeks as she looks up at Luke's face and sees the eager giddiness there and then back at Alex. Yeah, that tracks.

"Sorry guys. Got a little distracted. Band meeting after we get everything packed up."

She pulls Luke back over to their gear to begin packing up. Squeezing his hand before dropping it to unplug her keyboard.

He looks at her with confusion. "Band meeting?"

"We'll need witnesses."

"Riiiiiight. Nice."

[littleoddwriter]

Can I request Billy Lenz (1974) x reader fic (established relationship) where, since reader is probably a sorority girl, she asks Billy if he wants to move into her house with her (there’s an attic ofc) since she’ll be forced to move out beacuse she’s in her last year?

Not Without You | Billy Lenz x Female!Reader

Hey there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like what I've done with it! And thank you for waiting patiently for it. I may be slow in fulfilling the requests, but at least they're coming eventually... <3 notes; Female!Reader (can be read as Gender Neutral tho, it's mostly because of the setting being a sorority dorm house, but there are no words or indicators that wouldn't allow for anyone else to read this without problems!); Short Fic; Established Relationship; Kissing with Tongue; Brief Mentions of Murders.

“You know I’m about to graduate, right?” you asked Billy, while you were sitting cross-legged on the attic floor, facing your boyfriend. He was huddled in the corner and the moonlight shone through the window, illuminating him enough for you to make out his shape and half of his face. You could see that your words upset him.

He nodded jerkily, making a soft sound of distress.

“Yeah, so… I was wondering if you’d wanna move into my house with me, then?” you continued, “It also has an attic if you’re more comfortable that way. I don’t expect you to sleep in the same bed with me or anything like that if you don’t want to. But… I’d love to at least continue living in the same building with you…” 

There was a certain sense of caution to your inquiry. Not because you were afraid of him. Never. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. But you were worried that maybe you had read too much into your relationship and his current distress. Maybe he was only with you because you lived in the sorority dorm house, after all; and perhaps he was only upset about you leaving because you steadily provided him with basic needs and more, forcing him to find somebody else. It scared you that by bringing up that you were moving out in a few months, the reality of your relationship’s nature would come crashing down on you. 

Billy suddenly leaned forward and grabbed your hand tightly. That action startled you for a moment, but you instantly relaxed when you looked at his hand grasping onto yours like it was his lifeline. And when your eyes travelled up to his face, you smiled softly. Your anxious thoughts disappeared as soon as you saw how grateful and in awe he looked.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him quietly with a teasing edge to your voice.

He nodded almost frantically in answer. “Yes,” he said shakily, “I wouldn’t have let you leave. Not without me. Not without Billy. Never without Billy!” 

Now it was time for you to startle Billy as you leaned in and pulled him into a tight, loving embrace. He froze for a split second before melting into your arms and returning the hug with force, almost crushing your ribs between his arms. You couldn’t really breathe anymore, but he loosened his grip soon enough for you to not even be forced into saying something. 

As his arms loosened around you, you leaned back a little to look at his face. For a moment, you simply looked at him, admiring his features in the soft moonlight along with the contrast of the harsh shadows due to the otherwise dark attic. To you, he was almost an ethereal being. 

With a soft smile, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Billy’s lips. 

He reciprocated it with a fiery passion that you only knew him to be capable of, and you loved it more than you could put into words. His tongue slipped out and licked your lips as you two kissed, making it a lot messier than it needed to be; but you were used to it by now, and you were never one to complain about being wanted so fiercely.

Eventually, you leaned back, parting from him enough to speak. 

“I’m looking forward to living with you and not having to sneak around just so you won’t be caught,” you whispered against his spit-slick lips with a quiet little giggle in your voice before kissing him again, eliciting a soft grunt from Billy, who grinned in response.

[spaceless-vacuum]

What about a reader that has sub zero's abilities

If you don't know mortal combat, sub zero basically can control ice and freeze any type of water including the water in living things which he can freeze them and he can freeze the water in the air making the room look like someone had a blizzard, he can also make ice into weapons. You know he's near when it starts to feel chili. So a reader that can do that basically, would that make reader seem less fragile to them, would that delusion that reader needs their help and they can only protect reader, would they allow reader to fight with them now because the ability to control ice would help or would they try to seal it.

This is sub zero here

I drew your hands in a familiar motion. Calling on the water in the air to freeze. On my command ice grew into a slender needle half a foot long. I shot it forth with devastating speed. The icicle embedded itself deep into the monster's muscle and it roared in pain. A drop of blood fell down the hide of the beast and it turned to face me.

These monsters were everywhere. I had no clue what they were but they looked almost like bulldogs. All short and lean with muscle. Their blue tinted skin was strange and alien. I took a step away. Its breath stunk of rotten meat. The monsters ambushed us. Hyrule had been facing this one and was knocked onto his rear when the thing ran the fellow over. 

“Smart thinking!” Someone from the sounds of chaos shouted but I couldn't pick out anything else. I couldn't turn away from the monster in front of me. I wouldn't think about the fighting behind you. My allies were lost in the roar of chaos and I had no clue who the nearest one was besides Hyrule. For all I knew there was a monster charging at my back.

I summoned another icicle aiming right between the monster's beady little eyes. The icicle hit its throat. The creature backpedalled, reaching for its bleeding neck, and dropped its spear. Hyrule’s sword went through the creature's spine with a sickening crunch. He pulled his sword out and the monster dropped. A second later it turned to dust. Nothing remained except for the weapon.

I turned around. There were still a few left fighting in the clearing below. Time was taking care of one with some help from Wind, Warrior and Sky were dancing around another, and Legend had one fire while he was finishing it up with his sword. Hyrule ran up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Did it get you?” I turned to look at Hyrule. I reassured him I was fine. The first time we were ambushed I had been caught by a spear in my shoulder. It wasn't serious but everyone in the group was beside themselves for letting it happen. Hyruel was the first to run over and used his magic to heal me. He was amazing with his gift. Weaving together bones and healing tissue like it was second nature.

We had been travelling together for a few days. I had been trapped in this world for over a week. All I knew was that nothing made sense. Everything was different from what I was used to. Not everything was dangerous but you had to be careful here. It was hard to focus with all the stories the group had been telling. Might, magic, treasure, and a rich history. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't bump into them on the road that day.

We were just in the middle of a conversation about a dungeon Legend had been when the ambush hit. My magic let me handle myself in a fight. Hitting targets and making shields was easy for me, but the others were different. The deck was stacked against me. My travelling companions were well hardened adventurers and I got tired after an hour of walking. I wasn't even sure what it was we had fought.

“That should be the last of ‘em.” Warrior called out loud so everyone could hear. No one called out afterwards to warn us of others. No more sounds of swords and shields. It was all over so quickly.

“That’s the third time today. We’ve got to be close to whatever they are guarding.” Time wiped blood off of his blade, the droplets as dark as night. 

Everything here was different. You had to be quick on your feet. Everyone here relied on their instincts. I was good, but the group was better. After travelling for days I was more than thankful for their help. Their camp felt like the safest place I could be. Aside from these boys there wasn't anyone else on my mind who I'd rather be travelling with.

I had tried to do little things around camp to make taking me in easier. Cleaning the dishes, helping Wild cook, and in general trying my best to not get in the way. I didn't know much about their quest or their reputation. Time had stressed they were hunting a monster and had to do anything they could to get rid of it.  He had given me the impression they were all skilled enough to do it, and to give anxiety to anyone who went against them in a fight.

Today was different. It felt like everything in this world was set to target us. We were close to something. Why else try so hard to slow us down? Taking a break wasn't an option. We had to press on. If we were quick we might be able to figure out what all the fuss was about. I wanted to see The Shadow they all talked so much about.

“You're good in a fight.” Hyrule said. He was checking himself over for anything that got knocked loose in the fight.

“Thank you! I feel like I'm getting better.” His compliment made me blush. Hyrule was the only champion here who was naturally gifted with magic. We had that in common. Made it easy to talk with him since we both had some form of elemental connection. His lighting and my ice made for a good pair.

“Should we take a rest?” I heard Four talking on the other side of the clearing. “We could send someone back to fetch you if anything happens.” I looked over. He was standing by Time and Sky while Warrior was trading flame rods with Legend. 

“No. I don't want anyone to fall behind. What if they send someone to catch us and attack the smaller part?” Time looked over to me and Hyrule. They were talking about us. Leaving me and anyone else behind so they rest could rush ahead while we stayed behind. I hated it when Time treated me like I was clueless.

His way of acting always caught me off guard. Yesterday while I was telling a story about my world he kept stopping me to ask me questions.  He was asking me to talk more about myself and my life form before I fell through to Hyrule. Like if I was married, what I ate back home, and what I thought of my life there. He acted like I couldn't tell what he was asking for.

Then there were times like today. Where he was going over my head to stare at the man behind me. Time was trying to ask Hyrule what my condition was. Was I injured? Could I go on? He wouldn't take my word for how I was handling things- no. He wanted the perspective from one of the team members. I hated it, but I understood why. 

Didn't mean I enjoyed his treatment, just that I understood why. He didn't want the newbie to try and appear tougher than they were. I couldn't be allowed to push myself too far just to stick with the rest of the group. Legend first brought up this concern to me. He had repeated it a few times after. For some reason they all were convinced I didn't know my own limits. As if I were some fragile glass slipper in their mind but not my own.

“The moblin jumped out and attacked us both but it didn't land a hit. We're fine.” Hyrule assured everyone we, but mostly I, was ok.

“Looked like you took quite a fall. Glad y/n could help you out.” Warrior, bless his heart, had been helping train me. He was vocal about how I could fight only if I proved myself. I didn't know what that meant but said ok. During our first sparring match I froze his foot to stone; and left him there. It counted as a win. He couldn't do anything and I was free to move away or attack.

“I’m fine. Neither of us are injured and I can still walk.” I looked over to Hyrule and he agreed. He went down but the spear never touched him. I took control of the situation and the beast went to attack me but was slain before it could. It could have been worse.

“We’ll continue together. If something happens a few of us will stay to rest.” Time’s order was final. We began marching again.

“Splitting up the group isn't a good idea, you said that yourself. I'm not injured and you might need the help.” I knew my comment would be heard but not listened to. Time could be so pig headed sometimes. He had his own view of honour and how to keep others safe. You disregarded his ideas and he knew this. Didn’t change what he did or what he saw in me. He meant to keep me safe even if I found it counterintuitive to the point of harm. Sometimes it grew on me but other times it was so infuriating to deal with. I wasn't incapable of defending myself.

“We can’t rest if we're too worried about you.” Sky said. He could see how tense Time was. He took the brunt of your suggestions. The rest of the group would tell you the same thing but you listened to Time more. He was the leader and he controlled the group when they got too far ahead of themselves. He would put his foot down for you in place of the others so you would listen to the group's suggestions.

“I don't think we'll be stopping. It's past midday. If one group stops and we have to circle back it will be sundown. No use in shooting ourselves in the foot if we can catch the shadow while the suns still up.” Time doubled down. He didn't say we wouldn't be stopping, just that if we did it would have to be for the rest of the night. Depending on how the rest of the day went, such as more ambushes, we might have to stay back and set up camp.

“We’ll have to stop at some point for dinner and rest.” Legend spoke. I was up front with Time. I turned around to look at Legend and the rest behind us. Wind was eating something that looked like a plant and Wild was fiddling with his sheikah slate.

“Darling here just doesn't want to slow us down.” Twilight said. He was up front with Warrior. I slowed down to where Sky was in the middle of the group. Wind, Wild, Four, Legend, and Hyrule were in the rear. 

The main fighting force was behind us. Most of the ambushes had taken place when we were almost all the way past them. They'd jump out of the forest and try to trap us from all sides. The strongest fighters would stay up front to push forward while the rest made sure no one closed in on anyone's backs. My spot was in the middle. Where anyone from any side could jump in and protect me. 

Everyone here had told me in one way or another that they only wanted what was best for me. We hadn't been together for long enough for me to agree with them. They hardly knew me, how could they tell me what was best for my life? That and how touchy they could be put me on edge from time to time. I figured Hylians were naturally close people. I was treated as a close friend even though we didn't know each other for long.

I had no plan on leaving. No other group felt quite as safe and I had grown fond of them. Several of the party members had made it clear they felt the same way. Not to mention I had promised Wind there would be no plans of running away in the middle of the night. If I had to leave I would do so with warning.

I doubted I would feel like leaving anytime soon. The future was unclear but I was invested in these boys. Both their lives and in the mystery around the shadow. I couldn’t leave them on their own. I knew they felt the same way about me. We have been trading stories a lot lately. I would say something about my life and they would say something of their own. Talking with them like that made me feel at home.

I couldn't leave without saying goodbye and giving my thanks first. I didn't even have the time to properly thank them for everything they've done for me. I knew they all would object to any gifts I spent money on- especially Time. He prided himself on buying everything I needed when we were in town. So that meant I had to do so in private. Time by myself was hard to come by. I couldn't manage to slip away even if I tried. If I wanted to get them any presents I would have to do so carefully.

[skoulsons]

started crying thinking about this at 1am in bed so. ✌🏻 my writing doesn’t do the mental image I had justice so please bear with me ok i got sad and am a Bad Writer

-

Tommy gave it to her. Ellie had been asking him endless questions about Sarah that he could barely answer without cracking. Eventually the conversation was too taxing on Tommy, so he gave Ellie the picture. This is her, he’d said. She was a… beautiful kid.

It was the one of Joel with his hand over Sarah’s eyes. Both their faces were beaming and their smiles were so wide.

She didn’t think Joel could smile that wide. And Sarah? Yeah, she did have a killer smile.

Joel didn’t know Tommy gave Ellie the picture, but what caught him even more off guard was seeing Ellie admire it.

His hitched breath is what alerted Ellie to his presence. Joel made his way from the living room to the kitchen with a shaky breath and fists tight enough to draw blood from his palms.

Ellie kid the photo quickly and followed Joel, pestering him with a mix of are you okay’s and I’m sorry’s. Ellie’s concerns never landed on his ears—only the swift, fleeting sound her laugh as he covered her eyes and the dad! Shouted as he chuckled at the photo opportunity.

Sarah. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice.

-

They don’t talk about it. At least, not until later. Not until Ellie’s curiosity got the best of her. Not until Joel had calmed down and she thought maybe.

Besides, she lost Riley. And Henry. And Sam. He’d understand, right? Thinking about her the way Ellie thinks about them? Dreaming about them?

She was his daughter, of course he did. His nightmares filled with it should’ve been me over and over again. They had to be about Sarah.

Maybe, in a way, it was selfish to ask him about her. Maybe, also, she was doing it so he could have the chance to talk about her. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Do you still think about her?”

Joel shuffled his feet and breathed. Lying and leaving both crossed his mind, but they wouldn’t do any good. She’d come back with them again sometime later. He nodded his head. “Every day,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

Ellie nodded at the response. Really, that was all she needed. It answered her question. But, again, curiosity. What was she like? What made her laugh? Did you watch movies with her, too?

To her surprise, she’s not the one to ask the next question.

“Do you have it?”

His question surprised her, but Ellie didn’t waste a second to run upstairs, two steps at a time, and grab the photo.

When she returned, Joel’s face was in his hands. He wasn’t crying, not yet at least, but he must’ve been preparing.

Ellie wondered if he’d seen her face in full since That Day.

She sat beside him again and held the photo out. “Here,” she whispered.

He took the picture from her and held it in both his hands, his left thumb gently under Sarah’s chin.

Joel sniffed seeing her in full now. How perfect she was.

And the realization hits him way too late that all he ever did was take her for granted. Her first word, her first steps, the first time she fed herself with a fork. Her first swimming lessons and her first day of soccer practice. Their first guitar lesson together and the first time sarah cooked breakfast for him before work, just because she wanted to.

He hugged her extra tight that morning.

Every fair, museum visit and road-trip were taken for granted. Every smile and cry. Every bloody knee, twisted ankle, and calloused finger.

Joel rubbed his left thumb over her face gently and, for a brief moment, it felt like her skin. It wasn’t her face on a piece of paper anymore, it was her. The perfect, clean skin he’d washed more time than he could count. The cheeks that he’d wiped tears from so many times over. The nose he’d kissed when she was a baby. It was her.

He cried. He clutched the photo as gently as he could in one hand and cried.

Ellie was there, of course. She was pressed against his arm, her hand draped over his arm that was periodically wiping the tears from his face. His other hand was still holding tightly to the photo, his thumb occasionally brushing over her face.

And after Joel felt her the way he’d denied doing for twenty years, he talked about her more. Her beautiful smile. The way she’d always laugh at his stupid attempts at dad jokes. Her height, her room, the music she liked and how she and Tommy would gang up on Joel all turned into lengthy conversations and heartwarming memories between them.

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

As the night gave into twilight, as the stars faded, so did the darkness give way to light. 

Her head hurt, that was the first thing she understood. Her head hurt. It felt sticky, too. Like she had been bleeding. She slowly pushed up from the thing she had been resting against… a man, it seemed. Tall, definitely taller than her. He wasn’t looking at her, he was looking away. She looked away from him as well, trying to understand her surroundings. 

She looked down to see her hands and arms tightly bound. The leather restraints had bruised her wrists. They didn't hurt nearly as bad as her head, but they definitely still hurt. 

"You're finally awake." She jumped, even though the voice that had startled her was gentle. She snapped up to look at the man across from her. He looked tired, but he was smiling all the same. 

She blinked, wondering if she was supposed to recognize him. She tipped her head as she thought. She looked over his face, his hair, his outfit, trying to fit the pieces of him together. She liked the way the dawn light looked in his blonde hair. 

"You got caught in the same ambush as us." His voice was still soft, he must have picked up on her confusion. "You were crossing the border, right?" He asked her. 

"I… I don't know." She answered him honestly. She truly didn't have a single clue how she got here. She tried to think, but her head just kept hurting. She met the man's eyes. "Where am I?"

"Hey!" The final prisoner, the man in rags, spoke to her. "We shouldn't be here! It’s these damn Stormcloaks the Empire wants! You and me have nothing to do with it!" 

"We're all prisoners now, Lokir." The blonde man spoke, giving him a slightly annoyed look. 

"Where am I?" She repeated the question, because no one had answered it. "Who are you? What's going on!?" Panic began to bubble up within her. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay! I'm Ralof." He smiled brighter, though it was clearly forced through his exhaustion. "You hit your head pretty hard. How much do you remember?" 

Nothing.

She remembered nothing. At all. She fought through the pain, as she tried to recall a time before this. Any memories of life before this wagon at all. But she couldn't. There was nothing. And the more she strained her thoughts, the more her head hurt. 

"Nothing." She whispered with her eyes wide. "I don't remember anything-"

"Shut up back there!" The coachman of the wagon snapped. 

"Why don't you gag all of us, then!" Lokir snapped right back, before he looked to the man across from him, the man she had been leaning on. "Actually, why are you gagged? What's wrong with you?"

She wondered how Lokir expected him to answer that. 

Ralof scowled. "Watch your mouth." His tone carried a warning. "That's the true High King you're talking to!" 

He didn't look like much of a king to her. What kind of king ends up a prisoner? 

"You're Ulfric Stormcloak?!" Lokir was beginning to panic more and more. "If they have you, what are they going to do to us?!" 

Ralof leaned back, looking up to the sky. "Sovngarde awaits." He took in a deep breath, before looking back between her and Lokir. "Where are you two from?" 

"Why does it matter?" Lokir's voice cracked. 

Ralof gave him a serious look. "Our last thoughts should be of home." 

Lokir was shaking harder now. He doubled over, barely holding himself up. "Rorikstead." His voice was stained with his tears. "I'm from Rorikstead. My father runs the inn. I shouldn't have left him. I shouldn't have left my brother."

"I've been to Rorikstead." Ralof kept his tone gentle. "A fine part of Whiterun." He turned to look at her. "You?" 

"I don't know." She answered him honestly. "My memories are completely empty. I- I don't even know my name. Who I am. Nevermind where I'm from." She glanced to the stone walls, up ahead. "Or where I'm going." 

"That's a shame." She looked back to Ralof as he spoke. "It must seem a short life for you." 

She looked down, wondering who she's supposed to be. She was in patches and rags, and she was a prisoner. Whoever she was, she may not even be a good person. She wished she knew. 

The shadow of a stone arch passed over them, She looked up and around at the town, wondering if it was supposed to be familiar. It wasn’t. She looked back down with a heavy frown. 

"Helgen." Ralof spoke up again, determined to kill the heavy silence among them. "I used to see a man from here. He'd mix juniper berries into his mead, it was pretty good." He smiled, but it was distant and sad. 

"General Tullius!" A new voice rang out from somewhere ahead that she couldn't see. "The headsman is waiting." 

“Good.” Another voice called back. “Let’s finally end this.” 

The wagon slowly came to a halt at the wall, a soldier leading the horses away. They were the last one in the line, with the other wagons already emptying. She thought about what Ralof had said. A short life, indeed. 

“Let’s go.” Ralof stood up, undaunted by his fate. “We shouldn’t keep the gods waiting, it’s hardly polite.” 

Lokir began to shake harder, panicking even more. He knew he was going to die. She felt bad for him, she truly did. It seemed that whatever authority was executing them was only after these “Stormcloaks”, not people like him or her who just got caught in the middle. 

“No, wait!” He cried. “Please! I’m not a Stormcloak, I just took a horse! Is that really worth death?!” 

“Have courage, Lokir.” Ralof was trying to sound reassuring, but he mostly just sounded tired. As she got out of the cart, he looked back at her. 

Like he had done for her so many times now, she offered him a smile. If she was going to die, she should at least be friendly to the people she’s dying with. It would have been nice to get to know Ralof before she had to die with him. 

“Step up to the block as we call your name.” One of the voices from before spoke, and she looked around Ralof to see two people she didn’t recognize. One of them, the woman, appeared to be of higher rank than the other. She had been the one speaking. “Hadvar?” She prompted. 

Hadvar, the soldier, breathed in. He looked down at his book, a quill in his other hand. “Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, of Windhelm.”

Ulfric kept his head held high as he moved to the block, towering over the other soldiers. 

As he walked, Ralof spoke up. “It’s truly been an honor, King Ulfric.” 

Hadvar’s eyes moved down the list. She spotted the way he seemed to hesitate, the way his eyes glassed over as he looked up. “Ralof.” He breathed. He seemed to keep himself steady, but she could see the very tip of his quill trembling. “Ralof, of Riverwood.” 

Ralof silently moved past him, refusing to even look at him. They knew each other, she thought. They had to, there was no other reason for the way they had reacted to each other. 

Hadvar breathed in before he continued. “Lokir, of Rorikstead.” 

Lokir suddenly bolted, causing her to jump a bit. He sprinted past the captain, past the soldiers. The Captain raised her hand to a nearby archer, who took the signal instantly. Within a blink of an eye, the arrow sunk into the back of Lokir’s neck. Hopefully it killed him quickly. He crumpled to the ground, and all she could think about was the family he had mentioned. His father, his brother. 

“You, there.” Hadvar spoke to her. She was confused by the look he was giving her, like he knew her. Maybe he did, she certainly didn’t know. “Come forward.” 

She stepped forward, meeting his eyes. She glanced to the book, hoping he would read her name and her hometown, as he had for the others. It would be nice to have a name. 

“What’s your name?” Her hopes were crushed by his question. 

“Eryn.” She answered with the first thing that had come to her mind. She had only had a second to think, and it was the only thing she could think of. 

Eryn, in spite of the circumstances, smiled. She would die with a name, at least.

Hadvar looked back down at his book, and then back up. “Where are you from, Eryn?” He asked her. She only shrugged at him. She didn’t know. “Uhh, right.” He turned to his apparent superior. “Captain, Eryn isn’t on the list. She’s the one-” 

“Forget the list.” The Captain snapped at him, scowling. “She goes to the block. None of these worms leave alive today.” 

Hadvar returned the scowl, just a little, but enough. “But-” 

The Captain turned to face him fully, her tone harsh. “The block, Hadvar.” 

Hadvar looked like he wanted to argue, but he ultimately sighed. “By your orders, ma’am…” He looked away from her, and to Eryn. “I’m so sorry.” 

Eryn didn’t reply, if he was really sorry he would help her. She moved away from him, walking over to stand next to Ralof. He was the only person she felt like she knew at all. She didn’t want to die, but it was nice to die knowing something. Anything at all. 

Ralof leaned over to whisper. “I thought you said you didn’t remember anything?” 

Eryn leaned in too, shrugging to him. “Eryn was just the first thing I thought of.” She cracked a smile. “I guess I’ll just have that name for the rest of my life.” 

Ralof snickered at the gallows humor, which made her laugh too. “It’s pretty.” He told her, still smiling. 

"Ulfric." The distinct voice of Tullius captured everyone's attention. In spite of his much shorter stature compared to Ulfric, he was still equally as intimidating. "So many in Skyrim call you a hero." His voice was dripping with disdain. "But a “hero” doesn't use his Voice to murder his king and steal his throne." 

Ulfric took a single step forward, yelling something that was muffled by his gag. Every imperial soldier moved, ready to restrain Ulfric if they had to. 

But Tullius himself was unafraid. He didn't flinch. He simply drew his sword. "You damned your own homeland, your own people, into chaos. And I'm going to end it. Here and now. I am going to put. You. Down." He sheathed his sword, turning to the captain. "He's last. I want him to see his men being executed for his actions."

Eryn looked to her only point of reference, Ralof. She hoped he would give her some context, any at all. This seemed cruel, why should anyone be punished for someone else's actions?! But the look Ralof gave her told her it was far, far too much to explain right now. 

Eryn looked up as the sound of something echoed through the sky. Everyone around her was equally as confused. If she didn't know better, she would have called the noise a roar. 

Tulluis broke the silence, choosing not to acknowledge the noise. "Grant them their last rites, or whatever the nords call it." 

A woman in robes stepped forward, raising her arms to the sky. "As we gift your souls into Aetherius, the love and light of the eight divines shine upon-" 

A stormcloak soldier stepped forward. The woman next to him looked at him with worry. "Sorald, no, don't-" 

"Nine." Sorald spoke with certainty and anger. 

"Excuse me?" The priestess dropped her arms, glaring at him. 

"Nine divines." Sorald began to walk towards the priestess, causing the imperial soldiers to pull her back, out of harm's way. But Sorald stopped, looking at the block, the headsman. "Let's get this over with."

He knelt down, laying his head on the block. "My ancestors are proud of me." He spoke as the headsman raised his axe. "Can you say-"

The axe came down, cutting off his last words. The crowd, including Eryn, flinched. She looked over to the other woman, the one that had been beside him. 

She fell to her knees, sobbing. "You imperial bastards!" She screamed. Ralof knelt down beside her, trying to comfort her. 

"He was as fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof told the sobbing woman. "He wouldn't have wanted it any other way." 

"Justice!" "Death to the stormcloaks!" 

Eryn glanced at the people behind her, cheering for this man's death. She tried to understand, she wanted to understand. She couldn't. Whatever this was, she had been ensnared in the middle. 

"Next." The Captain was apathetic. "The woman in the rags." 

That made Tullius look to the sentenced prisoners, to Eryn. "Wait, you're the woman from-"

Another cry wailed through the sky, this time so loud it made Eryn's ears hurt. Hadvar, next to the captain, kept his eyes on the sky. "That noise… what is that?" 

The Captain didn't so much as acknowledge him or the noise. "Next prisoner." 

Hadvar sighed, looking down, and then to Eryn. "Come up, Eryn. It'll be quick." His voice was gentle, but his face showed clear conflict.

Eryn’s heart dropped as her eyes widened. She felt genuine fear, feeling it spread through her body. She didn’t want to die! She didn’t even know what she was leaving behind! Would it hurt? What would come next? Her stomach turned over itself as she walked over, the adrenaline numbing her. She could barely even feel the ground under her knees as she knelt down. 

An armored boot kicked her all the way down, causing her to lose her breath for a moment. Her neck crashed into the wooden block, and she let out an involuntary noise of pain. She looked up at the executioner, hiding his face behind a ringmail mask. But his eyes were showing, and Eryn looked into them. If he was going to kill her without question, he better look her in the eye. 

The ground suddenly shook as a massive, spiked creature landed on the tower behind the axeman. The massive beast looked around, before throwing its head up. It let out a powerful and terrible roar, the echo of it causing the ground to tremble. Clouds and fire swirled into existence around it, blocking the morning sun and bathing the town in a dark and burning red. 

From the clouds, rocks and fire began to slam into the town. One meteoric stone fell in between the executioner and Eryn. The executioner fell, seemingly unconscious. And she wasn’t far behind him. She landed on her back, the wind now fully knocked out of her. Her vision began to blur, darkness tugging at the edges of her mind. One of the only things she could feel was the blood under her back. 

“Hey! Eryn!” 

A distant voice was calling her, but it was getting louder. Her lungs screamed as she breathed in, trying to hold onto her consciousness, to her life. Something pulled her from the ground, hard. It snapped her back into her reality all at once,  she scrambled to her feet. She looked up to see Ralof, who was trying to pick her up. 

“Come on!” He yelled, and they both sprinted to the nearby tower. Ralof shut the door behind them, getting a barrier in between them and the dragon. 

Eryn tried to catch more of her breath and get her bearings. She shook off the daze. “What is that thing?!” She yelled.

“A dragon.” Another voice answered. Eryn turned to see Ulfric spitting the last of his gag from his mouth. He was much calmer than everyone else. 

“A dragon?!” Ralof echoed in disbelief. “Like the legends?!” 

“Legends don’t destroy cities. Monsters do.” Ulfric answered. 

Outside, a roar and a crash. Eryn took in a deep breath. "Let's move, now! We need to get out of here!"  She looked over to the stairs up to the roof. It’ll be better to get to higher ground. She exchanged a look with Ralof, and they both raced up the stairs. 

The wall exploded out, nearly killing them both. Eryn yanked Ralof back as they both watched the dragon open its terrible jaws and erupt fire. The heat made her eyes hurt, but she kept a tight grip on Ralof. The dragon suddenly pushed off from the tower, shaking it. They looked through the hole it had made. 

Ralof looked around, and then down. “The inn!” He exclaimed, pointing to it. Jump for it!” 

Eryn looked to the roof below, and then to him. “What about you?!” She asked, worried about him. 

Ralof gave her a serious look. “I’ll follow when I can. I promise. Go!”

Eryn didn’t have time to think about it before she leapt from the tower. She rolled into the landing on instinct, getting rid of the momentum. She sprung up and looked back up for Ralof, but he was no longer there. She turned away, spotting a hole in the floor of the burning inn. She ran to it, jumping down to the ground. 

She ran out of the building, one of the wooden beams collapsing behind her. She looked around for her next move, but spotted a man on the ground. He was bleeding. Heavily. Beside him, a child. Eryn began to run over to them, hoping to help the father, or get the child away from the danger. 

“Run, Hamming, run!” The father cried, trying to shove his son away. 

The boy shook his head, still trying to get his father to safety, with what little strength he had. "Dad- DAD-" He cried. 

The dragon landed behind them, looking down at the pair, and then to Eryn. Eryn froze as those red eyes burned into her. She met the dragon's eyes, and for a moment, it distracted both of them. They stared into each other's souls. For just a second, Eryn understood something about this beast. That it had a name. That he had a name, and he knew exactly what he was doing. That he was evil.

He stared into her soul. 

For just a moment, Eryn truly understood the concept of an enemy. 

Someone else ran out from behind cover. This broke the trance both the dragon and Eryn had been in. 

Eryn realized it was Hadvar who had run out, and she looked up in horror as the dragon was about to blast fire at him. He wasn't afraid. He slid forward, digging his shield into the ground just in time. He held Hamming close to himself, the fire splitting on either side of the shield, some of it burning his arm. But he kept Hamming close, protecting the child with his entire being. 

The father had surely perished. 

Hadvar looked up and around, trying to find safety. Eryn looked to a clearing in between the burning inn and a destroyed house. “Over here!” She called to Hadvar, running to the clearing, where another man was hiding. 

Hadvar abandoned his shield, picking up the boy and running over to Eryn and the man. “Take the boy!” He told the older man, setting the crying child down. “Get him out of here, I’m going to join the defense!” 

“How can I help?” Eryn stepped closer to Hadvar, looking at him seriously. She wanted to help, however she could. She had to help. She had to.

Hadvar blinked, but then smiled. He took out his sword, and used it to cut loose her binds. She rubbed her bruised wrists. "Let's get you to the keep.” He answered.  “We'll find you some gear and we can figure out how to fight this thing." He turned away, looking out to the city. “Follow me!” 

Hadvar ran, and Eryn followed right behind him. He led her through the burning city, ducking near walls to try and stay out of the dragon’s path of destruction. As they ran past Tullius, she heard him ordering a retreat. She looked around a bit, realizing that this town would be unsalvageable.

They came into the shadow of a large fortress-like building that Eryn assumed was the keep. Motion caught her eye to her left, and she smiled as she realized it was Ralof, running towards the keep. He spotted Hadvar and Eryn, and all three of them came to a stop. “Ralof!” Eryn was happy to see him. 

Hadvar wasn’t. “Get out of the damned way you traitor!” 

Ralof barely reacted to the raised voice, only narrowing his eyes a bit. “You can’t stop me. You know that.” 

Hadvar snarled. “Fine! I’ll see you in Sovngarde, then!” With that, he shoved past Ralof, apparently leaving Eryn behind. Though, she suspected he had thought she would follow him. 

Instead, she looked to Ralof, who gestured towards the closest door. “Let’s get inside!” He yelled, reaching out to grab her hand. He lead them both inside, barely getting in the door before fire burned on the other side of it.

“We made it.” Ralof panted. 

Eryn leaned back against the door, trying to catch her breath. She was safe, well, safer than she would have been outside. For now. 

[that-was-anticlimactic]

hmmm for the ask game! kunikida & dazai + "are you okay?" (can be platonic or romantic, take your pick!)

"are you okay?"

dazai looks up at kunikida, slapping on a stupid smile. "oh, me? of course i'm-"

"cut the crap, osamu."

oof, osamu. kunikida was really pulling out the big guns for this one, huh?

dazai scoffed, then sighed, then waved kunikida over.

kunikida sits down tentatively, hands trembling. dazai takes his hands in his and begins to massage them, slowly, forcefully.

"this isn't..." kunikida pauses to stifle a moan when dazai hits a particularly painful spot. "this isn't about me."

"but it can be~" dazai winks.

"stop it."

kunikida pulls his hands away, tucking them in his pockets. "stop pretending you're okay. you aren't. i only asked to give you a chance to admit it for once. just-"

he sighs angrily, letting his head flop back onto the wall with a soft thud. "you're important, too."

"i know."

"and i know you, osamu. stop lying to me."

[ladytauria]

4 and 50 for kisses! Jaytimkon or some combo of?? And here! for luck! a kiss on your hand for you my friend!

🥰 thank you, leo <3333

i changed up one of the prompts a little~ mostly just the order tho. uwu i hope you like this!

>> AO3 <<

Jason hums absently to himself—his own, unique melody, blending the song his mother used to sing while doing dishes with the one Alfred hums, occasionally,  in the kitchen, or whistles in the garden. Sauce bubbles in front of him. The scent of it tickles his nose, making his stomach gurgle inaudibly. He lifts the spoon to his mouth, tasting.

Hm.

Needs more spice.

He sets the spoon aside. Tim is perched on the counter, right in front of the spice cabinet. Jason arches a brow at him. “You plannin’ on movin’?”

He gets a small, cheeky smile. “No.”

Jason rolls his eyes—the effect ruined by the way his lips twitch—and steps between the spread of Tim’s knees, reaching around him. Tim moves his head just enough to let Jason open the cabinet door, shifting back into place as Jason rises up, one hand on Tim’s hip.

Their lips brush in a brief, fleeting kiss; breath mingling.

Jason finds what he’s looking for through memory alone. It’s not hard. He has a strict organization system for his spices, to his boyfriends’ endless amusement.

As soon as he lowers, he sets the cayenne aside in favor of splaying both hands on Tim’s sides, nudging Tim’s head back with his nose before kissing him again, on purpose this time. Tim’s hands bunch into the front of his apron—a silly, frilly thing Kon bought him as a joke but which has become one of Jason’s favorites. It pulls taut around Jason’s neck, the pressure making him melt, fingers tangling in Tim’s shirt.

Kon enters the kitchen. Jason is aware of it, distantly, his hind brain picking up on the distinctive sound of his step but categorizing it as a non-threat. Neither he nor Tim acknowledge it—not until Jason starts, a little, as Kon presses up against his back, strong arms locking around his waist.

He melts again immediately, sighing into Tim’s mouth as Kon kisses up the column of his neck, and as much of his jaw as he can reach.

Tim is the one to break away. Jason is breathless, a little weak in the knees, the solid press of a boyfriend on either side of him feeling like all that’s keeping him upright. Kon presses one more kiss behind his ear—and then he presses tighter against Jason’s back, pushing him further into Tim’s chest. Kon kisses Tim over his shoulder.

It’s a gorgeous sight.

They kiss lazily, like they’ve got all night; like Jason isn’t sandwiched between them. It’s— There's something… Jason doesn’t know if he can call it hot, because honestly, he thinks he’d be perfectly happy if it didn’t turn sexual at all, but—

There’s something appealing about that, about the idea of being held between them for hours, as they trade slow, lazy kisses over his head.

A thought to indulge later, maybe. If he finds the courage to ask for it.

When Kon and Tim finally break apart, Jason finds himself pulled into another kiss—this time by Kon, his torso twisting to make it easier.  He’s got one hand fisted in Tim’s shirt—the other in Kon’s.

Tim is the one to kiss his neck, now, and everywhere else he can reach.

It’s overwhelming in the best of ways. Kon pulls away—and then there’s Tim again, stealing what little breath he has left.

Kon bites into his shoulder, worrying a mark there. Jason moans embarrassingly loud against Tim’s mouth. Tim grins, slipping his hands behind the apron and under Jason’s shirt to toy with the curls on his belly.

Jason’s head spins, dizzy with desire and the sweet, heady feeling of being loved. He sinks into it, into them—

A loud hiss breaks the reverie; all three of them tensing at the sudden sound. He flinches away from Tim, jerking his head toward the sound so quickly he hears his neck crack.

His sauce is splattering; droplets hissing and burning on the stove.

Jason swears. Fuck. He forgot about the sauce!

[ 50 Types of Kisses ]